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Movie Review: A Sound of Thunder
Jul. 25th, 2010 01:31 pmI don't usually review movies that have been out on DVD for years, but I felt moved to do a little literary puking to get the bad vibes out of my system.
I'm glad to say that Ray Bradbury is still alive. If he were dead, you could hook his body up to an armature and power Las Vegas with the current generated from the rotation of his body caused by the awfulness of this film.
The makers had cast iron cojones, I can say that much. How can you make a film based on such an awesome short story and make nary a reference to the name, which was the whole point of the tale?
I watched this film to the end just yesterday, despite having heard how bad it was, because it cost me $2.00 at a Blockbuster closing sale and I wanted to get my money's worth. As it turned out, I didn't - and I'd like that two hours of my life back, please.
Oh, it was entertaining enough in a feeble way - but only if you ignore the worst CGI of the century, lackluster acting and plot holes large enough to drive an Antonov An-225 through. Oh, wait - that's wrong. The whole movie is a plot hole, with more irrationality than a closed-door meeting of the House Budget Subcommittee.
Everything about this film grated on me. Chicago of 2055 looked like a bad matte painting - oh, wait, it was. The cars all looked like 1/20 scale Ford Pintos rattling around on a Disney racetrack, and the poor T-Rex might just as well have been made of papier-maché. The Baboonosaurs were fairly well-animated, but watching a whole herd of them climbing up a building looked like a lot of cut-and-paste. The rest of the special effects were one technical disaster after another, and in fact almost every scene left me shaking my head and asking WTF? - nothing in this film made any *sense*. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Catherine McCormack was the only cast member who showed a hint of passion for her role - even the mighty Ben Kingsley seemed numbed by the phenomenal stupidity of the rôle which he had agreed to undertake. I'm sure he wakes up at 3 AM on some nights, drenched in cold sweat, screaming "What the hell was I thinking?"
This abortion should never have been made. As it was, on a scale from 0 to 10, it rates about a -5. I'm honestly surprised it wasn't directed by Alan Smithee.
Overall Rating:
(With thanks to Mr. Cranky)
I'm glad to say that Ray Bradbury is still alive. If he were dead, you could hook his body up to an armature and power Las Vegas with the current generated from the rotation of his body caused by the awfulness of this film.
The makers had cast iron cojones, I can say that much. How can you make a film based on such an awesome short story and make nary a reference to the name, which was the whole point of the tale?
I watched this film to the end just yesterday, despite having heard how bad it was, because it cost me $2.00 at a Blockbuster closing sale and I wanted to get my money's worth. As it turned out, I didn't - and I'd like that two hours of my life back, please.
Oh, it was entertaining enough in a feeble way - but only if you ignore the worst CGI of the century, lackluster acting and plot holes large enough to drive an Antonov An-225 through. Oh, wait - that's wrong. The whole movie is a plot hole, with more irrationality than a closed-door meeting of the House Budget Subcommittee.
Everything about this film grated on me. Chicago of 2055 looked like a bad matte painting - oh, wait, it was. The cars all looked like 1/20 scale Ford Pintos rattling around on a Disney racetrack, and the poor T-Rex might just as well have been made of papier-maché. The Baboonosaurs were fairly well-animated, but watching a whole herd of them climbing up a building looked like a lot of cut-and-paste. The rest of the special effects were one technical disaster after another, and in fact almost every scene left me shaking my head and asking WTF? - nothing in this film made any *sense*. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Catherine McCormack was the only cast member who showed a hint of passion for her role - even the mighty Ben Kingsley seemed numbed by the phenomenal stupidity of the rôle which he had agreed to undertake. I'm sure he wakes up at 3 AM on some nights, drenched in cold sweat, screaming "What the hell was I thinking?"
This abortion should never have been made. As it was, on a scale from 0 to 10, it rates about a -5. I'm honestly surprised it wasn't directed by Alan Smithee.
Overall Rating:
(With thanks to Mr. Cranky)
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